This Could Be Our Year
by Jessica Simpson-Bourget
Summary: Diane's first New Year's Eve at Cheers allows her to firmly put the past behind her and embrace the new.


The bar wasn't often this hectic, and Diane was still just a bit wobbly with her tray. She'd only been at Cheers a few months, and that time had flown. Between classes and late shifts and just putting her life back in order, she had no idea where the last quarter of 1982 had gone. Now it was New Year's Eve, and here she was, working with Sam, Carla and Coach in a room full of strangers, and it struck her that this was unlike any New Year's she'd spent before.

In years past, she'd usually been among a small group of friends at a quiet and tasteful dinner party or more often, at home alone with a book at midnight, pausing only to watch Dick Clark preside over the ball drop in Times Square. She felt that doing that much kept her connected to the world outside her apartment. It was a connection she craved, but rarely fulfilled. This rowdy New Year's at Cheers was definitely a departure.

Everyone always seemed so happy at the end of the old year and excited for the new. Though she generally considered herself an optimist, at year's end, Diane could only tally her accomplishments or lack thereof, looking back with remorse and then ahead with trepidation. A sense of loss permeated. Lost time, lost opportunities. Anxiety over what was to come was the upshot. How would this year be any different than the last and where would next New Year's Eve find her? She never could have predicted her whereabouts at this year's end, that's for sure.

Thankfully, the crowd at Cheers kept her too busy to dwell on any ritualized holiday melancholy or ennui. There were drinks to serve, patrons to engage, drunken gropes to dodge. And then there was the matter of the bartender. Sam always managed to coax a laugh from her, even when she felt like screaming. Recent months had been an emotional gauntlet, and he was the one who'd gotten her through it with a well-timed smile, a word of encouragement or just a willing ear. Yes, a lot of the time he was downright obnoxious, but she'd long suspected that was a facade erected for the benefit of the jocks and aspiring macho men who frequented the place.

Truth be told, she didn't exactly mind being the object of his come-ons. It wasn't that they were so clever, but because they were always accompanied by a knowing wink or a crooked grin that let her know he didn't really expect her to give in to such a rudimentary approach. Their cat and mouse play was a sort of inside joke between them that had brought them closer. He set her apart from the rest of the gang. He respected her, and it was both fascinating and ironic that his respect manifested in such an odd way.

He looked out for her too. Whenever a customer had a little too much to drink and turned his unwanted attention toward her, he was right there, steering her out of the line of fire and redirecting the offending lout. It was easy for him to do, not just because he had a way with people, but because he was always watching her out of the corner of his eye and could anticipate a situation before it got out of hand. One night he hopped right over the bar to get between her and a particularly aggressive souse. As crazy as things could be on a busy weekend night, she never worried about her safety. She knew Sam was there for her. She especially liked to feel his eyes on her as she moved around the room, and found herself adding a little extra swing to her hips just to see the look on his face when she turned around.

Tonight she'd turned up the heat a bit more, making eye contact with him from across the room often and flirting outrageously every time she approached the bar.

"Diane, your order's up. You ready for it?"

"Oh, I'm ready alright… just waiting for you."

He was game.

"Anything you need, sweetheart, say the word. Your wish is my command."

"_Any_thing? That's a very tempting offer, Mr. Malone. You must be awfully good at your job," she grinned, turning away with a long look over her shoulder. Sam was in his glory.

Their banter had been especially laden with innuendo all night, and Diane found herself wondering where it was all going. Yes, she had to admit she had feelings for Sam- strong feelings- but would this be the night she gave in to them? As much as she wanted to, she wasn't sure that was a wise course of action. A New Year's Eve tryst with an admitted womanizer seemed imprudent, and might ultimately leave her feeling even worse than she usually did at this time of year. Still, he was well-nigh irresistible to her at this point, and could she really stop that train if it left the station? She doubted it.

The buzz of the crowd increased as midnight drew near. The vibe was infectious and Diane found herself getting caught up in the excitement. Coach and Sam poured out glass after glass of bubbly as Diane and Carla quickly made a last round to deliver it for a toast. Twenty seconds to midnight.

Diane scanned the room for a familiar face, and was distressed when she could not spot Sam at the bar. Her immediate thought was that he was off in a dark corner with some gorgeous young thing who wasn't her, and her celebratory mood turned on a dime. Yet another missed opportunity.

The countdown began as horns sounded and confetti flew. "10, 9, 8, 7…" Diane was heartsick and walked toward the back room. She couldn't bear to be among the revelers. Their warm camaraderie only amplified her sense of isolation and failure. "6, 5, 4…"

Noisemakers filled the air with a loud metallic din as friends and lovers rushed to each other's sides. Diane pushed her way through the crowd, shrugging off the embraces of upstart New Year's Romeos as she passed, tears brimming in her eyes. "3, 2, 1- _HAPPY NEW YEAR_!"

The bar erupted into cheers, and just then Diane felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and there was Sam. He looked at her with concern, brushing a piece of confetti from her hair. He was standing so close she could almost hear his breathing over the commotion that surrounded them. The crowd faded from view. There was only Sam and Diane. She looked down and noticed that he was holding her hand. His other hand moved to her chin, tilting it so her eyes met his.

They searched each other's faces before leaning in slowly, tentatively for a soft, New Year's kiss that was as electrifying as it was tender. Diane felt her heart race at the feel of his lips on hers, even for a brief moment. When he slowly pulled back to look at her, her eyes were closed just an instant longer before fluttering open, as if from a waking dream. He studied her countenance carefully, and seeming content with what he saw in it, leaned in and put his mouth close to her ear.

"Happy New Year, Diane."

"Happy New Year, Sam."

Just then someone started to bang at the piano and the crowd joined in a chorus of Auld Lang Syne. He pulled her in for a long bear hug and swayed with her to the music. She felt so connected, to Sam and to the world, she was awestruck, and trembled with happiness. Of the myriad emotions Diane felt this New Year's Eve, at the start of 1983, she had no regrets and no dread. For the first time in her life she could only look ahead with tremendous excitement for the unknown. She had a powerful sense that the best was yet to come.


End file.
